Puck of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl
by Obi's Second Cousin
Summary: After the death of the real Jack Sparrow thirteen years prior to CotBP, the faerie trickster Puck makes a deal with Captain Edward Teague and takes on his son's role, to make the Jack's legend larger than life- and to create her own brand of mischief
1. Assignment

Puck of the Caribbean

Chapter One: Assignment

Most pirates would consider the appearance of a blue-skinned, white-haired elf the better part of seven feet tall on their ship a rather startling thing. Many might even call it foreboding, if they managed to keep themselves from accidentally leaping overboard in panic.

For Captain Jack Sparrow... this was actually within the realm of normal.

The dusky-skinned pirate looked up at his visitor, apparently completely fogged with rum. "Well then!" he cried, staggering to his feet. "Look who we have here, all spiffied up. Going to some great fancy shindig, my Lord?"

To his credit, the fae did not seem too taken aback by Jack's familiar address. He only scowled. "Enough of your games, Puck," he said. "I will speak with you, _now_."

This made Jack pause a moment. Oberon must be truly annoyed about something if he was acting so. Usually his servant's little games amused him, but not today. Deciding it was best not to push his luck with his overlord, Jack quickly performed the little mental trick that unlocked his own fae powers. Green light flickered around his frame, and in an instant the scruffy pirate was replaced by a small, slight fae, dressed like a medieval jester, her white hair tumbling around pointed ears as she swept a deep bow.

"My Lord," she said, still nearly doubled-over. "I am, as always, at your service."

She felt the weight of her King's regard as an almost physical thing, like a heavy wool blanket that had been dropped over her. Normally that 'blanket' was warm and comforting. Today, however, it held an edge of a chill.

Not a good sign.

"I would expect that someone in my service would be somewhat _tidier_ with her games, Puck," Oberon said coldly. "Your little stunt with the treasure of Isla de Muerta is having repercussions."

Isla de Muerta... Oh yes, that business with the Aztec Gold. It had been a while since she'd thought of that, mostly because whenever she was Jack and thought about it, he got very riled up about the fact that Barbossa had lead a mutiny against him, dumped him on a desert island, and sailed off in his ship.

For some reason, that tended to annoy Jack. The only good thing about the entire affair was the story he'd been able to concoct about escaping the island on the backs of a couple of sea turtles.

She smiled charmingly up at her master. "My Lord, I'm hardly to fault if a few mortals fail to heed the warnings of legends and curses," she began.

"You are if it was you who led them to the treasure in the first place!" Oberon's disapproval lashed out at her, driving the Puck to one knee. She gritted her teeth and bore the pressure, though her playful mask did not slip one iota.

"My Lord,the mortals are forgetting magic," she said hastily. "The old ways are being forgotten- I only wished to grant them a reminder that the world is bigger than they think it is in their arrogance."

Eyes the color of a perfectly clear summer sky narrowed as they surveyed the smaller fae. "And you chose to do so by letting them come under a curse that turns them into undead abominations, Puck," Oberon said. "The spirits of Death feel the unbalance, my servant. Anubis demands that I see the curse is removed and the treasure destroyed."

Puck felt a slight stirring of annoyance. If Anubis was so adamant that the _Pearl_'s crew be freed of their curse, why didn't _he_ do something about it? He was the master of Death after all, surely he could-

"_Your_ mess, Puck," Oberon said sternly. "_Your_ actions must be the ones to resolve this situation."

She swallowed her annoyance and bowed her head. "Yes, my Lord," she replied, shifting her tone to that of the gracious servitor with all the ease of the practiced courtier she was. "It shall be as you command."

Oberon studied her for a moment longer, then nodded, laying a hand fondly on her head. "Good," he said. She smiled a little, nuzzling at his hand with a soft purr. Just as his disapproval had weighed on his changeling, so his approval felt like a warm hug. "Make the amends swiftly, my Puck," he told her. "I wish to have you at my side this Samhein."

"Yes, my Lord," she said.

It was only then that Oberon really seemed to take notice of their surroundings. He looked around at the expanse of ocean they drifted in, then took a more pointed look at the tiny boat Jack had been sailing in. "Puck... what _are_ you doing here?"

She grinned broadly and straightened. "Why, tricking, my Lord," she replied. Green eyes the shade of

deep forest at high noon danced with wicked delight."

"And just _who_ are you tricking?"

That prompted a laugh from her. "Your son and I have a little wager going to pass the time, if you recall, my Lord." She gestured broadly at the sea around them. "I plan on winning in high style, of course."

"Of course you do." The faerie lord shook his head, smiling slightly. "Very well, my Puck. I shall leave you to your mischief for now." His expression grew a little more stern. "Make your amends. I shall see you at year's turning."

Puck bowed deeply again, and Oberon vanished, leaving his servant standing alone in the tiny dinghy.

"Well then," she said. She tapped her chin, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It seems it's time for round two with Captain Hector Barbossa and his little crew of cursed miscreants." She grinned. "This should be fun."


	2. Snooping

Chapter Two: Snooping

There was nothing quite like standing up in the crow's nest of a ship, feeling the vessel leap over the waves beneath you towards the harbor while the wind dramatically blew back every loose garment and strand of hair.

The effect was generally ruined when you looked down only to discover that said boat was leaking.

Leaking... quite seriously.

Leaping down from his perch on the mast of the little dinghy, Jack splashed into water that was already well over his ankles and snatched up a bucket.

"No, no, no," he muttered to himself as he bailed. He loved the ocean. He just didn't love having it in his boat. Oceans in boats were generally a bad thing. They tended to make boats sink and that was a profoundly embarrassing thing to happen while sailing into port. He couldn't have that happen- he had a reputation to maintain. 'Sinking boat' and 'notorious pirate' were not two images that really went well together.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He glanced up. Dangling from an arch of sea-worn stone were three figures: skeletons all, hung by the neck and left to sway in the breeze like macabre wind chimes of bone and tattered clothing. A sign hung next to them.

_PIRATES: YE BE WARNED._

Jack studied the pathetic remains for a long moment, then swept off his hat in silent salute to his deceased comrades in piracy. That was all the attention he paid them. If a pirate wasn't good enough, wasn't clever enough, to avoid capture, then they deserved what they got. Only the best survived long in this business of blackguards and thieves.

Besides, he still had the small problem of his boat sinking.

He scowled at the rapidly-rising water. Despite his earlier pains, it was now halfway to his knees and rising.

"Oh, bugger," he muttered.

Well, if the blasted thing was going to sink, he might as well handle the situation with style. As the saying went, if you couldn't beat them, outdo them.

Swarming back up the mast, Jack stood up at the very top with all the pride and dignity of a captain on a first-of-the-line warship coming to dock with the acclaim of hundreds of cheering onlookers, all the while with his little boat sinking lower... and lower... until he finally stepped right off his perch and onto the grey boards of the dock and sauntered towards shore.

_Now that_, Jack thought_, is style._

"Hold up there, you!" cried an indignant male voice.

_So close._

Jack turned and was met by an older gentleman in a crisp cream-colored coat, trailed by a young slave boy with wide dark eyes. "It's a shilling to tie up your boat at the dock!" The man, a port official of some kind, scowled at first Jack, then the mast of his boat, the only part that was still poking above the surface. "And I shall need to know your name."

Well, what upstanding port official wouldn't? Still, couldn't have it being too widely known that Captain Jack Sparrow had come to Port Royal. There was a fort here, after all, and soldiers in forts were all too often so bored that they'd go hunting any entertainment- such as ship-hunting pirate captains.

Digging in a pocket, Jack came up with a small handful of coins and placed them on the official's ledger. "What do you say to three shillings," he said in his most reasonable tone, "And we forget the name?"

He had to hide a smirk as the man pondered this offer for a moment. The boy at his side looked impressed and a little eager at the sight and size of the bribe.

"Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith," the official said with a little smile, then turned and headed off down the dock. Jack gave a little bow in farewell and let in the opposite direction, towards shore. On the way, he passed a portable writing desk set on a stand, with a fat purse sitting on top. Docking fees, he thought, and casually plucked it from where it lay.

Excellent. Now he had coin in his pocket. It was time to do some snooping. Oberon wanted him- well, wanted Puck, but Puck was him and he was Puck so the matter was irrelevant- to deal with the cursed crew of the _Black Pearl_. A quick stop in Shipwreck Cove and a visit with dear old Dad had given him enough word on the _Pearl_ to tell that she was coming to Port Royal to raid and plunder, and so Jack had followed.

He smiled wryly as he ambled down towards the docks where naval vessels were tied up. Teague hadn't been thrilled to hear that he was planning to chase down the _Pearl. _On the other hand, Teague was never happy to hear when Jack was planning on getting into piratical mischief. Having lost one son, the real Jack Sparrow, he was always afraid of losing the Jack-persona Puck had created- and interestingly enough, Puck herself.

"Yer like my own daughter, lass," he'd told her after she'd asked about the _Pearl_ and its undead captain. "Ye'd best be careful on this crazy jaunt- I don't think I can bear losin' Jack again and ye too."

Puck had brushed away the old man's fears with her usual smirk and jaunty air, but inside, she was quite touched that he held so much affection for her. Never had any mortal viewed her as their daughter, not since her own parents had. Not even Oberon truly treated her that way, though his air with his subjects did tend towards the paternal. It just wasn't quite the same.

Jack shook himself clear of his thoughts and studied a sleek ship tied up at one of the far docks, listening to the distant sound of celebratory trumpets coming from the fort. He liked the lines of her, lean and graceful. The name Interceptor was painted proudly on her hull. If he knew ships- and by now, he certainly did- she'd probably be nearly as fast as the _Pearl_, and hardly a lobsterback in sight.

Perfect.

He sauntered his way down towards the dock and had nearly reached it when a pair of redcoated marines scrambled over from their dicing game in the shade and planted themselves firmly in his path.

"This dock is off-limits to civilians," one said, trying to sound more official than he actually was.

So much for hardly a lobsterback in sight.

"Terribly sorry," Jack told them. "I didn't know. If I see one, I shall inform you immediately." He stepped aside, intending to go around them, but they only sidestepped into his path again.

Alright then. Clearly, subtle wasn't going to work with these two. He considered a moment, and decided that audacity would probably be the best tool here.

Jack Sparrow- and Puck- had managed quite a lot of fantastic things through the application of sheer audacity.

"Apparently there's some sort of high-toned and fancy to-do up at the fort, eh?" he said, looking between the two guards as if genuinely confused at the discovery of an omission that should, in all honesty, have not been overlooked. "How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?"

They blinked at him, startled by the abrupt turn of conversation. Finally, the slightly bolder of the pair ventured, "S-someone has to make sure this dock stays off-limits to civilians."

"It's a fine goal, to be sure, but it seems to me that a ship like that-" Jack stepped back the way he'd come, trying not to laugh as the two marines scrambled to get back in front of him, and gestured towards a larger, bulkier vessel that floated near the mouth of the harbor, "makes this one here a bit superfluous, really..."

They glanced at the larger ship before the bolder guard spoke up again, this time with a smirk of his own. "Oh, the _Dauntless_ is the power in these waters, true enough," he said. "But there's no ship as can match the _Interceptor_ for speed."

Jack looked at them thoughtfully. Well, what would it hurt to ask? There was always a chance that they knew something- and even if they didn't, they were rather amusing to watch. "I've heard of one," he said, with the air of one divulging a great secret. "It's supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable: the _Black Pearl._"

The quieter of the guards burst out laughing. "Well, there's no _real_ ship as can match the _Interceptor_!"

Jack hid a flicker of annoyance and was just about to protest that his _Pearl_ was indeed a real ship when the bold guard did just that for him.

"No, no it's not."

"Yes it is!" the bold guard protested. "I've seen it."

His partner rounded on him. "You've seen it?"

"Yes."

"You haven't seen it."

"Yes, I have!"

"You've seen a ship, with black sails, that's crewed by the damned, and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out?"

The bold guard frowned. "No..."

"No." His partner smirked.

"But I have seen a ship with black sails!"

Jack didn't wait to hear the rest. Smirking at the ease in which he'd managed to get the pair arguing between themselves, he strolled right past them, down the dock, and onto the deck of the pretty _Interceptor_. He liked her more and more as he wandered up to the wheel and ran callused hands over it. Oh yes- a very nice ship indeed. Pity she was too large to sail with just one person.

"Hey!" shouted a pair of indignant voices. "You!"

Oh, charming. His adoring fans had realized he'd left. Ah well, back to the business of bedazzling the silly mortals.

"Get away from there!" one guard shouted, the one who'd been arguing that the _Pearl_ wasn't a real ship. He aimed his musket at Jack, his companion doing the same. "You don't have permission to be there, mate!"

While lead bullets were of little concern to Jack- a quick shapechange and mindwipe and Bob was yer uncle and Franny yer aunt, thank you very much- the steel bayonets affixed to the end of the muskets were another matter entirely. Jack eyed these with a hint of discomfort. "I'm sorry," he said, all sweet innocence. "It's just, it's such a pretty boat- ship!" he corrected himself.

The act didn't appear to fool his new friends. "What's your name?" demanded one.

"Smith!" Jack replied. "Or Smithy, if you like." Leave it to mortals to make their anonymous everyman name being a term used for a person who worked iron...

He supposed that was what you could call irony...

"What's your purpose in Port Royal, _Mr. Smith_?" snapped the other guard, sneering.

"Yeah!" cried his companion, shoving his bayonet a little closer to Jack. "And no lies!"

Oh, if there were ever an opening, this was it. Jack rounded the wheel, making the guards back up a pace or two. "Well then, I confess. It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer my weaselly black guts out."

He was very hard-pressed not to laugh at the looks on their faces. He could see the little gears in their heads turning as they each went through a mental debate over whether or not such an audacious claim could be true.

"I said no lies!"

The guard's partner glanced at him. "I think he's telling the truth."

"If he were telling the truth, he wouldn't have told us."

"Unless he believed you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told you," Jack pointed out, smirking a little. "Now, gents, why don't you just put those rifles down..." He gently pushed the points of the bayonets away from him, nodding a bit as he met no resistance, "And we'll just have a nice friendly chat, like. There, that's better, isn't it? A nice chat, a cup of tea, that's what you high-brow types like isn't it? Now, let me tell you a few tales about the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow- all, of course, completely and unequivocally the truth.. "


End file.
